#the hair is like that bc my hair is like that rn (dyed red but grown out a BUNCH)

[b0yth1ng]

got a little theme going on with this saves PC outfits :3

[salfishersimp2]

"Why would you say something thats harmful to another person?" Because if your outfit is fucking shit i'm not gonna let you walk around in it, thats fucking why

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

Important poll that I might not even listen to but vote anyways <3

[seagullcharmer]

by golly, i have GOT to draw jademythra

[theostrophywife]

Can I get a FIC abt the reader being Theodore’s gf and best friend and she’s embarrassed and alone in her dorm bc of cramps and they are REALLY REALLY bad and he just comforts her and they snuggle and he gives her his hoodie and fluffy!! (I’m dying from my cramps in my bed rn 🙏 I need comfort from my book bf)

heart shaped bruises.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: toothpaste kisses by the maccabees.

author's note: i'm so sorry you're in pain, love. hope this makes you feel better 💗

Bloody fucking hell. 

You clutched your stomach, doubling over in pain as another wave of cramps crashed into you at full force. An anti period pain potion. That would be your first invention after finishing your education at Hogwarts. For now, you were forced to endure the pain and misery sans magic. 

The clock on your nightstand rang obnoxiously, rattling the various barrettes and books stacked atop the table. The alarm meant that Charms would be starting soon. With a rather hard smack, you silenced the clock and buried yourself underneath the covers. 

There was no way in hell that you were going to make it to class today.

You couldn’t even get out of bed, let alone walk to the other side of the castle. No, you were staying right here. Cocooned in the safety of your blankets so you could wallow in self pity in peace. 

Apparently, suffering in silence was too much to ask for because the minute the alarm finally stopped, there was a knock on your door. 

“Go away,” you yelled, the words slightly muffled by your goose down comforter. 

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called from the other side of the door. “Are you alright, love?”

Tears pricked the back of your eyes. No, you were definitely not alright. Your uterus was an active war zone, your emotions were a poorly assembled rollercoaster in an abandoned theme park, and to top it all off, you had a raging headache like someone had taken a bludger to your skull. 

But you couldn’t say all of that. You didn’t want to freak your boyfriend out. 

“I’m fine, Theo. Just feeling under the weather.” You clamped your eyes shut, trying to block out the migraine. “Go to class without me.”

There was shuffling from the hallway before your door swung open, revealing a very concerned Theo. He took in the sight of you in bed, your cheeks flushed and your eyes red from crying all morning. Theo was by your side in three strides. 

“What’s wrong, dolcezza?”

“Nothing, I’m just not feeling well.” A fresh set of cramps chose that exact moment to pummel your lower abdomen, making you wince in pain. 

“That’s not nothing, darling.” He knelt beside you, taking your hand. “Tell me what’s wrong, Y/N. I hate seeing you in pain.”

Your eyes watered again. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Of course not, love.”

“It’s these cramps,” you said slowly, shifting to face him. “I’m on my period and it’s just really bad today. Usually I take a pain relieving potion, but even that’s not working this time around.”

Theo’s face softened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You averted his gaze, flushing. “I guess I was embarrassed. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“It is a big deal,” said Theo. “Everything that has to do with you is a big deal to me. I hate thinking that you’ve been suffering through this all alone.”

“I just didn’t want to bother you with something so silly.”

“You could never bother me, Y/N.” Theo gently pulled back the covers. “If anything I’m the one bothering you right now. Scoot over, darling. Make room for your Teddy.”

“But you’ll miss Charms.”

“I’ve skipped for less. This time it’s actually important. You need me. I’m not leaving you.”

You smiled softly and made room for Theo. He instantly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a snuggle. The familiar scent of sea salt and smoke felt like a warm hug in itself. Theo stroked your hair and kissed your temple. 

The cold air seeped in through your frosted glass windows, chilling you to the core. As much as you loved the ominous charm of living in the dungeons, this was one of its disadvantages. You shivered in Theo’s arms, cuddling closer for warmth. 

Your boyfriend radiated heat. You had no idea how when it was near freezing in your dorm. Theo liked to say he was hot blooded. You were just grateful to have your own personal heater. 

“Are you cold, darling?” 

You nodded, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “A little.”

Theo shifted beside you. He tugged at the hem of his hoodie and pulled it off in one swift move. “Arms up, love.”

You sat upright and did what you were told. Theo slipped his hoodie over you, smiling as the plush fabric swallowed you whole. It was warm and smelled like him. You wanted to drown in it. 

He kissed the tip of your nose. “It looks good on you, but don’t think that it gets you out of cuddling.” 

Theo pulled you to him, snuggling you from behind. He twined your legs together, making you giggle as his leg hair tickled the back of your thighs. You intertwined your fingers and kissed the back of his palm. 

The cramps may still be wreaking havoc on your body, but at least now you had Theo to comfort you. 

“How are you feeling, babe?” 

You turned, smiling. “Better now that you’re here, Teddy.”

Theo grinned and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. “Get some rest, love. I’m not going anywhere.”

[adoringsuga]

— ruin our friendship.

⭑ featuring. chigiri hyoma

⭑ content. fem!reader, chigiri gets jelly lol, kissing that gets a little heated so be warned, several isagi mentions (& cameo!) bc i love him, & cursing

⭑ word count. 2.3k

⭑ summary. chigiri hyoma, plain and simple, is your best friend in the whole wide world. your relationship is as uncomplicated as can be; yet, after you ask a presumably innocent question about a friend of his, something comes to light that changes everything...

⭑ notes. omg this is like my first post ever so…hello (≧∀≦)!! this is also like?!??! my first fanfic ever so... lollll... it's honestly so short so i didn't even know what to even write for the summary... anywho! hope u enjoy!! hopefully there will be more to come b/c super obsessed w blue lock rn ngl

“Your hair is so soft,” you murmur mostly to yourself, fingers combing through soft, cherry-red strands, gently untangling any knots you come across with a care reserved solely for the boy currently resting his head in your lap.

Hyoma only hums appreciatively, hyper-focused on the TV in front of you two, sporadically tapping his fingers on your thigh when something of note occurs on the screen. He had turned on some old football game of his when he had invaded your apartment—unannounced, you may add,—around an hour ago. And, before you could utter a single word of complaint about his choice of entertainment, he quickly began haughtily sprouting some bullshit about having to study his old match so he could be aware of what to improve on to better his techniques and what a shame it would be if his team were to lose because someone was to interfere with his review.

Personally, you think he only said that so you wouldn’t change it to this new movie—or, ‘the overly sweet and annoying chick flick’ as Chigiri has lovingly dubbed it—you’ve been dying to watch for weeks now.

Asshole Hyoma, you think a little bitterly, It’s your apartment, you should be able to choose what you can watch or not.

(But, as your eyes flicker to the intense concentration alit on his face, the way he scrutinizes every move, every pass, every shot with an acute focus you find weirdly endearing [and oddly attractive, to your growing horror], you can’t help but think maybe this is fine for now. Maybe.

Maybe football isn’t too bad, you muse, actively ignoring the infinitesimal flush that rises to your cheeks.)

Bored of simply threading your fingers through his strands, you begin to separate his hair into chunks, intertwining the strands once you’ve deemed you’ve parted the hair neatly enough for a loose braid.

You’ve always thought that Hyoma’s hair was inexplicably beautiful, much like the rest of him. Delicate features combined with a lithe yet toned body made him increasingly popular with the female and male demographic of soccer fans (and non-fans as well), especially as his popularity grew and grew with each match he was featured in.

You, simply, admired his beauty for what it was: graceful and elegant, never perceiving him in the lustful light most fans of his had taken to since his debut, (although you would be lying if you said a part of hadn’t slowly begun to see him in a light less than platonic since the start of the year or so).

(These feelings, truthfully, make you want to crawl into a hole and die).

Shaken from your train of thought when a loud cheer erupts from the speakers, your eyes flit up at the TV briefly, blinking in surprise when someone of note catches your eye. You can’t help but gape, fingers stilling from your steadfast braiding as you let out a low whistle, gaze fixed upon the TV.

Even though it makes your heart pang painfully in your chest, you know Hyoma will never see you the way you see him, so, you might as well try and get over him now.

And, without a doubt, you think that the forward on your TV can definitely help with that.

“Whoa,” you mutter, in genuine awe at the gorgeous boy on screen. “Hey, hey, Chigirin,” your words are coupled with a few pokes to his cheek, and he turns his head slightly to look up at you once you’ve finished your ministrations, letting out an inquisitive hum with a raised eyebrow.

“Who’s that?” you question as soon as he peers up at you, pointing at the midnight-haired boy with glimmering deep blue eyes on the TV, eyes gleaming with interest.

“… Why.” Is all he simply says once he sees who it is, voice carefully level and gaze clouded with something you can’t quite place.

“Because he’s cute,” you answer, immediate and truthful, with an almost ariose cadence to your words. You pause for a moment, intently studying the midnight-haired boy, who, at the moment, is currently celebrating a vivacious goal when it all suddenly clicks. “Hey, wait, isn’t that Isagi-san? And aren’t you playing his team next week? Do you think you can get me his number?”

(Embarrassingly, a part you blindly hopes that Hyoma will say say no, so you can overanalyze the meaning behind such an act and further fuel your delusions that Hyoma was definitely into you just as you were to him.

And, hey, who can blame you? Getting over a guy like Hyoma is an agonizing endeavor, so sue you for trying to enjoy your delusions for a bit more before it all comes crashing down and you’re once again stuck in the role of his supportive best friend.

Forced to be something you wished you weren’t. His best friend. Only his best friend.)

Hyoma abruptly sits up from your lap, and you let out a little yelp at the suddenness of it, eyebrows furrowed. His curtain of hair hides his face from your puzzled gaze, and you tilt your head a millimeter to the right, curious.

(The strands of hair you had been braiding loosen at the movement, and eventually unravel unceremoniously after a second passes.

You’re slightly dismayed at the fact.)

Suddenly, a chill runs down your spine, and, for some inane reason, you feel as though you’ve fucked up.

“U-uhm, Chigirin,” you begin awkwardly, suddenly frantic to fill the uneasy, growing hush because truthfully, Hyoma’s unexplainable silence is really starting to weird you out. You’re about to sprout some bullshit about something your statistics professor said the other day, when, all of sudden, you’re on your back, the air knocked out of your lungs and mouth agape in shock.

Pink eyes simply stare down at you, unblinking and almost bored.

“H-Hyoma…?” you manage to stutter out after a long moment, face impossibly red as the boy in question leans over you, the heat of his breath ghosting over your lips. You lay limp, hyper-aware of the fact that even if you did want to move, you wouldn’t be able to as your wrists are being held securely in place by one of Hyoma’s hands. You vaguely wonder if it’s bad that this mere fact gives you butterflies.

(You never use his given name, and Hyoma feels a sick sense of satisfaction curl in his belly at the melodic chime of it.)

You’re warm all over, yet Hyoma seems entirely unphased; even though if he were to only move a mere inch or two, your lips would surely touch.

The thought causes something to thrum in your stomach, makes it tighten in apt anticipation and your breath catch in your throat. I can’t do this, you think, nearly hysteric. It’s all too much, and you turn your face to the side, unable to meet his piercing gaze any longer lest you confess to something you know you’ll regret immediately. Though, with the movement, your gaze somehow catches the TV once more, and there, in all his spectacular glory, is Isagi Yoichi, grinning handsomely with navy blue eyes burning with unabashed determination, calculating and undeniably resolute.

His focused gaze is locked right onto the camera, and his eyes bore intensely into yours as if you’re right there in front of him, as if he could plainly reach out and touch you.

(Oh goodness. Your delusions are growing worse and worse by the day.)

Hyoma growls, seemingly aware of what has currently captured your attention, and purses his lips as though he has just eaten something rotten.

“Don’t look at him.” He demands suddenly, using his thumb and forefinger to gently yet firmly hold your chin, tilting it in a way that ensures your gaze is set on him and only him. “Don’t look at Isagi. Don’t look at anyone else. Look at me.”

“I… what? Hyoma… What do you… ?”

“Can’t you see?” he snaps, almost furious. “I’m in love with you. I have been since I met you. I was fine not saying anything before, but I refuse to lose you to Isagi too.”

Your heart stops. Everything simply stops. Have you been in an accident? And is this simply your unconscious mind attempting to soothe you with what you’ve always dreamed of most? But it can’t be, because you can feel the searing warmth that permeates from his skin, can count every eyelash and every light, scattered freckle, can smell the addicting cologne you mentioned liking to him offhandedly months ago because a guy in your class was wearing it, and so many other things that disproves your accident theory fully.

This is real. This is happening.

Chigiri Hyoma is in love with you?

“You’re in love with me?” you echo in disbelief and rose buds bloom on the crests of Hyoma’s cheeks as he nods adamantly, the hand grasping your chin drifting up to cup your cheek instead.

Somehow, it’s that second, silent confirmation that truly affirms it for you.

Chigiri Hyoma, the perpetual thorn in your side and your best friend in the whole wide world, is in love with you.

Your heart leaps, before it swells. Chigiri Hyoma is in love with you, and he says it as though it is an undeniable fact.

Chigiri Hyoma is in love with you. He’s in love with you.

You feel dizzy at the news, everything fuzzy and muddled except for Hyoma himself, who looks to be growing increasingly nervous and tense with each passing second of silence from yourself.

I should probably say something, you think in a haze.

But, you can’t think of anything that could adequately describe the emotions you’re feeling at the moment, so you simply lift your head and softly graze your lips with his, taking in shocked, pink eyes before crashing your lips together fully. Hyoma makes a small noise of surprise, before melting into it, letting go of your wrists and instead taking your face tenderly with calloused hands, rough against petal-soft skin.

He’s practically on top of you now, but you can’t find it in yourself to care- using your newly freed hands to run your fingers through his hair, to grasp at his face, his waist, and anywhere else you can reach.

It’s not the best kiss, per se- your teeth knock together more than once in a way that causes a dull ache, and mortifying sounds keep escaping your mouth at the most inopportune moments, but God, you don’t think you’ll ever get a kiss like this again.

Regrettably, you pull away after a few more glorious moments, Hyoma chasing after your lips before settling to simply press chaste kisses at the corners of your mouth instead. He trails down after a moment, beginning to nip lightly at the soft skin of your neck, insistent yet gentle as his teeth graze your pulse ever so slightly. You whine at the feeling, almost panting as you weakly push his head away as warmth blossoms under your ribs, settling in your stomach and wisping through your limbs in a hum.

He nips once, twice, before lifting his head, albeit begrudgingly, finally allowing you the chance to suck in a breath of sweet oxygen through parted lips.

As you catch your breath, you hazily gaze up at a red-faced Hyoma, his lips rosy and swollen from pressure and eyes blown and glassy. Embarrassingly, the sight causes your chest to clench with something akin to desire, and you nibble at your kiss-bitten lips in an attempt to keep those feelings at bay, if for the time being.

A beat passes.

“I love you too,” you admit airly as soon as the heat in your cheeks and the rapid beating of your heart calms down to a somewhat manageable level, and Hyoma simply laughs, eyes glimmering with adoration.

“I think I garnered that,” he grins, before capturing your lips once more, cradling your face as though you’re the most important thing to him in the entire world.

(“Hey. Isagi.” Yoichi turns at the call of his name, perking up slightly at the sight of familiar cherry-red hair tied loosely in a bun and long lashes. Putting down the small trinket he had been toying with, he opens his mouth, eager to greet Chigiri back when the other is suddenly right in front of him. Yoichi blinks, grinning openly before Chigiri abruptly takes and wrenches a large chunk of his hair harshly between thin fingers.

“Ow!” he hisses immediately, scalp throbbing hotly and already aching like a motherfucker. He’s surely going to have a headache later, and that realization, alongside the whole, you know, hair-yanking thing, puts a damper on his mood. “What was that for?” he exclaims, incredulous, angrily rubbing at the spot Chigiri had pulled with an ire Yoichi prays he’ll never experience again.

“For my girlfriend,” Chigiri states matter-of-factly, patting Yoichi on the head lightly and demeaningly as though he didn’t just violently violate his poor scalp. He gives no time for the older to respond, already swiftly turning from Yoichi and beginning to walk away, but not before brazenly declaring, “Oh. And we’re beating you too, so be ready for that.”

“Girlfriend? What the hell did I do to your girlfriend?” Yoichi sputters, blatantly ignoring Chigiri’s last statement and decidedly shelving it for a later discussion because what the fuck? What did he do to deserve to have his hair pulled again?

[What is with him and getting his hair pulled, genuinely? Do people just see him and instantly think, ‘Oh yes, he looks like he likes to get his hair pulled’?

For the record, he does not. He really does not, from the bottom of his heart.]

Chigiri simply laughs, the honeyed glow of the sun catching in his hair and making it burn a fiery red, and Isagi can only watch the other boy strolls away, left cluelessly standing with a stinging scalp and widened eyes.

“... Wait. Chigiri-san has a girlfriend?”)

[yourlegacysnotyourstosee]

I took notes on my thoughts while watching Nerdy Prudes Must Die because I did the same for Black Friday

DAMN Jon said “I am a TENOR”

I literally can’t get over how good he sounds

AHHHHHH LAUREN!!!!!

Bro these songs SLAP

Damn Mariahs hair is so long

Pete is such a mood

I’m literally terrified of being pantsed so bad

BRUH NOT MICRO-PETER

Omg hey Kim

When Cory enthusiastically agrees I’m dying

Omg Max likes Grace???????

Wait that’s so cute

Wait why’s he kinda fine

“His name is Jesus Christ” HELP 💀💀💀💀💀

It’s giving Apex Predator (from Mean Girls)

Damn these HARMONIES THO

My jaw is on the floor the way Cory is talking to her

“How am I supposed to study without listening to Spotify?” ME LMFAO

I KNOW HE DID NOT JUST MAKE AN ISSAC NEWTON JOKE

The way hes like “this is about thermodynamics” me me me. I hate when people make jokes about the things we’re not even talking about.

“NANI” NO WAY HE SAID THAT HELP💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀I LITERALLY CANNOT BREATHE 💀💀💀💀💀💀

Study date????????

Joey Richter my beloved ❤️❤️❤️

When Max enters and the crowd cheers

“Rondevuch”

Max literally has a God complex

Why is Kim everyones mom?

“Walen place”?????

“Mom will you pass the butt stuff????” HELP SHES BEEN CORRUPTED

NO WAY SHES FANTASIZING ABOUT MAX JAGERMAN

LITERALLY WHAT

Awwww Grace is experiencing Catholic Guilt™ ❤️❤️❤️

Girl wdym “he’s gotta go”???

Laurens character is bisexual???????

“WAIFU MATERIAL”?????? I literally can’t get over Jons character

Wait Grace is a little fucked up actually

Wait since the Waylons built hatchetfield high and the starlight theater, could they have cursed the town somehow? Like I know about the evil brothers or whatever, but I’m not super familiar with the lore

Wait I kind of love Grace now

Mariah slays

“Am I reading as Ghost, or Lin Manuel Miranda?” AWWWWWW❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Your fucking useless Pete.” Tgwdlm???? In MY npmd???? It’s more likely than you think

I’m very suspicious about how fast they seemed to put the plan together…

I know the plan wont work and Im so nervous I’m getting secondhand embarrassment so bad rn

“Skele-ens”

I need Max Jagerman actually

Awwww Max is a Theater Kid ❤️❤️❤️

AW FUCK HE DIED

HOLY FUCK HE DIED

GIRL WTF IS WRONG WITH GRACE

I love how upbeat this song is

WHYD SHE CUT HIS NIPPLES OFF WTF

Omg Dan and Donna!

Slay Mayor Lauter

His reaction to being asked to the game is giving- “she asked me for the time” “no way” “way :D”

THE NIGHTHAWKS MASCOT 💀💀💀💀

FUCK CLIVESDALE

DAMN THEYRE IN THE SPLITS GOOD FOR THEM

I like that the football team has only 2 players

I love when actors walk through the audience, but ESPECIALLY here when hes stalking Richie bro looks so good

Listen I know he’s about to kill Richie but HES SO FINE HELP

Im literally so Gay bro

THE SMOKE CLUB!!!!!!

THE NIGHTMARE TIME THEME

When she says hes not hot anymore girl speak for yoursef

Please let Grace swear

Oh fuck they’re giving themselves away

Grace Chastity said “acab”

Cory needs more songs

MAN IN A HURRY RETURNS!!!!!

Damn who is this girl in a trenchcoat 😍😍😍

GERALD OH MY GOD

Random side note but what happened to Robert? I was just thinking about how I wish we could see Hidgens again but is Robert still a part of Starkid anymore? Is he on to Bigger and Better things? Does anyone know what those are? I’d love to continue to support him.

Edit: NVM NVM I TAKE IT BACK I DO NOT WANT TO SUPPORT ROBERT MANION NO NO NO SIR

The invisible bird. Literally high school theater

“Heahs the thang about ah bahbecue”

“Ah wawna remember who ah ayum”

Ruth is so real for not know when to do the lights bc the cue lines were wrong

Ugh Laurens voice is so good and I know ive said that about pretty much everyone but it’s true

I know shes about to die rn

The red lighting gave it away

THE WAY HE LOOKS INTO CAMERA AFTER HE KILLS HER I NEED HIM SO BAD

Why did Kim scream like that

Awww Grace has religious trauma now ❤️❤️❤️

THE COPS THEME

OH MY GOD PAUL AND EMMA!!!!!!!!!

He gave her his number❤️❤️❤️

Hot chocolate boy!!!!!!!! I knew Peter was the hot chocolate boy but still

This duet is EVERYTHING

Obsessed with the fact he called MARIAH ROSE FAITH a MEAN GIRL

“Axe wielding maniacs?”

The Waylons did not dig that shit very deep…

OH FUCK THEY HAVE TO SUMMIN THE LORDS IN BLACK

I KNEW THE WAYLONS BUILT LAKESIDE MALL

im so sorry Zombie Max is So Fine

WIGGLY

THEY HAVE HUMAN FORMS??????

“Let me check my Christmas list”

“What do you want steph?” MORE tgwdlm? In MY npmd?

I feel bad for not knowing all their names

Max says bitch a lot

Damn this show is long

Omg this is so sad im tearing up a lil

Max is so fucking funny

Damn Grace is seducing Max this is hilarious

Fuck Grace Chastity or kill some nerds? One of the many difficult decisions in life

He decides to fuck Grace Chastity

OH MY GOD THATS SO SMART

Thats some fuckin Macbeth level shit

Kims teacher character is so cute awwwww

Paul and Bill dance Chaperones??????

Oh nvm that’s Jason

I don’t think I ever mentioned it but the dancing is really good

It’s very clean and crisp

In the last 2 hours I very quickly developed a massive crush on Will Branner

OH FUCK

WHATS GOING ON

WHAT

[noeasyisnoisy]

‼️TBB S3 FINALE SPOILERS‼️

why is the music ominous.

THE LOGO IS BLACK (did that happen before and i missed it?)

please tell me they won’t all die

this is terrifying

“guard the vault” THERE SO MANY OF THEM

OMG NALA SE

YES EMERIE‼️‼️‼️

yes omega they’re here but they’re not quite HERE yet 

oh god the times don’t line up

THE TIMES DONT LINE UP

SHES FKNNA ESCAPE AND NOBODY WILL BE THERE

OR SHES GONNA ESCAPE AS ECHOS GETTING THERE ISNT SHE

LMFAOOOOO THEY KNOCKED THAT BITCH OUR

isn’t that tunnel dangerous?? like omega almost got SMACKED a million times

they’re all force sensitive though so it makes sense

if wrecker passes out or smth they’re all screwed

OMG THE KIDS ARE OUT

TURN AROUND 

the fucking timing AHHDJFKFEHD

im so stressed

IF THAT BABY DOESNT SHUT UP

i’m sorry

i love kids but THIS ISNT THE TIME

OH FUCK THE ZILLO BEAST

HELP THAT CUT OFF (the zillo beast screaming and then emerie)

YALL SEE ECHO??

“the zillo’s loose!” echo: 🤨

ok at least emerie’s job is to find them

“omega.. she released the zillo” “how do you know that?” “because that’s exactly what i’d do.” STOP IT.

YOU KIDS BETTER FUCKING RUN

ECHO HUNTER CROSSHAIR HURRY

HIS HAND 💔

wrecker you’re not fine.

crosshair you can’t with your hand

clone force 99 is dead

i

i’m just

i’m gonna go cry now

CROSSHAIR YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOURE UP AGAINST

“it’s what i deserve” SHUT UP

“we do this together” YAAAAA

“echo’s handiwork? or omega’s?” “omega.” HELP

THE OPERATORS PLAYING

IS THAT TECH

I COULDNT TELL

holy fuck

THERES 4 OF THEM???

also hemlock looked so cool with the red lights and the smoke

HOLY FUCK THE 4 GUYS

that guy has to be tech because HES ALWAYS THE MAIN FOCUS

crosshair is you sacrifice yourself istg

HUNTER

NO

UR JOKING

HE DIDNT

HE CUT OFF HIS HAND??

NO FUCKING WAY

THEY GOT THEM

emerie and echo u need to start SPRINTING

OH FUCK

ECHO

YAYAYAYAY

THE HUG STOP ☹️

STOP TORTURING THEM

me bc hunter has heightened sense which means the electricity hurts even more than it already would

SHUT THE FUCK UP HEMLOCK

IF THEY KILL CROSSHAIR ISTG

STOP ELECTROCUTING HIM YOU FUCKING BASTARD

cry count: 2

the fact that nobody has plot armor is terrifying

YES OMEGA BREAK EVERYONE OUT

nala se’s gonna die isn’t she

RAMPART WHAT ARE YOU DOING

ughdhdh tarkin

TARKINS SHOWING UP???

i’m so scared

my heart is POUNDING

nala se what’re you up to queen

is rampart gonna kill her

NO FUCKING WAY

wrecker’s waking up

omega sees them

ok

we got this!!

THE POP UP WALLS HELLO?

cmon omega free them

WHY IS THAT GUY JS STANDING THERE

HOLY FUCK THEY STABBED HIM

oh shit she’s gonna die

HEMLOCK GET OUT

NONONONONONO THE GAS

rampart stfu

HE KILLED NALA SE

LMFAO HE DIED TOO

ok but tbb minus echo aren’t in the gas

YES WRECKER.

KILL THOSE HOES

NO HES TAKING OMEGA

HUNTER

YES WRECKERRR

DID HE JS KILL MAYBE TECH

ok so i guess it’s not tech

i’m crying again why the fuck am i crying

HEMLOCK LET GO OF HER

WHY ARE THE OPERATIVES NOT DYING

IM SO SCARED RN

CROSSHAIR

LET OMEGA GO YOU BITCH

ALSO WET HAIR HUNTER MEOWOWOWOWOW HES SO FINEEEE

stab him omega

you got this crosshair.

im bawling rn

YES

THAT WAS SO SMOOTH

now hug.

AWWW

i’m sobbing

THEY MADE IT

THEY DID IT

holy shit they left right as the empire got there

that’s actually terrifying

YESSSSS RESEARCH IS GONE

PROJECT STARDUST OMG

THE DEATHSTAR

THATS SO COOL

AWWW EMERIE ☹️

i’m sobbing again

THAT WAS SUCH A PERFECT ENDING

oh it’s not over

ADULT OMEGA

SHUT UP

GONKY

GRANDPA HUNTER

why is he such a dilf hello

sorry

“you’re our kid omega”

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP I CANT

TECHS GOGGLES

OK NOW THAT WAS THE PERFECT ENDING 

i’m gonna go type a paragraph 💔

[oflgtfol]

MY HAIR IS LITERALLY BROWN

my fucking coworkers are insisting my hair is red too today like its crazy i dont know why people refuse to admit that my hair is brown but i mean after years. Years of people wrongly insisting that im BLONDE (BLONDE?) i guess red hair is an improvement

[moriartyyoushouldseemeinacrown]

For the ask game! :)

2, 12, 44, 100, 127, 146

2 -are you outgoing or shy? I'd say I'm somewhere inbetween it depends on who I'm with but mainly shy but not in a cute soft girl way

12 -top 5 songs right now? Shitttt right ok, I'll be fine, dying in a hot tube and fever dream by palaye royale, boulevard of broken dreams by greenday and scar tissue by the red hot chili peppers (this will change tdy)

44 -bottom of the sea or outer space? Probably outer space but as long as I don't have to focus on the controls and all that stuff bc then I'd be so scared but I bet it'd just be so gorgeous and I wouldn't be able to see at the bottom of the sea so I might get eaten or something

100 -how are you feeling? I'm good rn thx I'm at a friend's house and we're curling her hair so it's fun :) she also has two cats who are too cute

127 -what makes you happy? Being with my friends when it's not too loud and ppl are talking to me not ignoring me :(, listening to music/Sherlock & co/true crime in my room or when I'm baking, reading with lots of blankets, talking about special interests/watching them is their films or TV programs, making new friends who get me or understand me, eating frozen fruit blended w some milk w granola is so tasty, talking to my mooties (I count you guys as friends but just as another thing separately <3)

146 -was today a good day? We had to do this stupid character development thing at school which was very boring and first break wasn't great I just felt proper shit but lunch was nice bc I felt better and could talk to ppl and I like now

Sry for such long answers 😅

[monochromepalette]

🌺 Annon is here once again but with an angst idea this time..😁

Reader dying during their lovers overblot and their reactions to it 🥰

Maybe Riddle, Leona and Jamil if u dont mind 🙏

I HOPE U DONT MIND BC THIS IS MY THIRD TIME REQUESTING IM SORRY I JUST LOVE UR WRITING IK URE WORKING ON OTHER ASKS TOO RN IM SORRY 😭

Hey 🌺 Anonnyyyyyyy!!! 🌺

Your requests are always welcomed, don't be afraid or shy to ask 💖💖💖 I DON'T CARE IF THIS IS YOUR FIRST OR THIRD OR ONE-HUNDERED-THOUSAND-FOURTH TIME. I WILL KEEP WRITING FOR YOU, MY DARLING. 💖💖💖

---

|| GN!Reader || Overblot Death (Riddle, Leona, Jamil) - [Events slightly differ from in-game events]

---

|●|[❗️TRIGGER WARNINGS:

● Death

● Descriptions of Character Death

● Mention of Suicide (Jamil's)

● Mentions of blood & struggling❗️]|●|

---

{ * R I D D L E * }

"Riddle!"

You shrieked as Riddle's magic blasted right through the barrier a student made for you. It shattered like glass and the hole left a blaze of fire and smoke. It crawled around the surface like a crowd of ants eager to eat their meal. Riddle passed through, the barrier rendered useless against him.

Something tickled your throat as you breathed in steadily. You tried to regain your focus as you reached out for Riddle, his hands extended to yours—his fingers felt hot.

A sudden flashbang of red light. The world was spinning, and you could only see blobs and blurs of colors.

It hurt. It stung. It burned.

The tickling in your throat turned into choking. You gasped desperately for air while you flailed your arms around to grab a hold of your lover.

Riddle, Riddle, Riddle, you kept saying his name in your head. What if... What if he could hear you? This was his magic, afterall! Of course he could hear you! Maybe if you said it loud enough in your mind, he would save you. Riddle! Riddle! Please, Riddle! Perhaps you just needed to tell him how much you loved him, would he then return to normal? I love you, Riddle... Please, come back to me—I love you so much! Something felt like is was moving closer. It became hotter and hotter. It was Riddle!

...Or at least, that's what you wished it could be. As much as you wanted to believe it, you couldn't keep lying to yourself anymore.

He couldn't hear you.

He wasn't going to save you.

The only thing in front of you had the shape and form of a garbled mess of hues of red and orange.

"[ Name ]!" Trey shouted. He sprinted towards you as he tried to get in to pull you out. Before he could, Riddle's magic shoved Trey backwards, his power riding against his face. Trey stumbled onto the floor, his glasses snapping in half. Even as vice-housewarden, his power still could not match up to Riddle's.

The haziness of darkness clouded your eyesight. You became numb, and suddenly, there was nothing.

■•■•■

"Riddle!" Ace shouted. His hands dug into his hair in complete distress. "[ Name ] is... [ Name ] is...!"

"They're dead!" Deuce's voice was full of anguish.

Trey tossed his broken glasses at Riddle, trying to get his attention. "[ Name ]'s dead! Did you hear that! They're dead!"

Riddle rapidly turned to [ Name ]'s body. His clenched hands slowly loosened. The fire dissipated as he noticed the limp body a few feet away from him. The slow drag of his dress left a large trail of red magic behind like a path of blood as he moved towards you.

His overblot slowly changed—his skin returning to normal, his dress turning back into his dorm uniform... He kneeled down to you, his head rested against your chest as you laid still. No breath. No heartbeat.

Riddle's eyes squeezed shut. His hands clutched so tightly onto your uniform that his knuckles turned into a bony white. "I'm so sorry," he repeated with a shaky breath, "I'm so sorry, [ Name ]."

Your jacket had become soaked in Riddle's tears. Riddle couldn't contain his pain any longer as he strove to steady his heavy gasps. "I love you," Riddle muttered. He gently placed your hand onto his head while he continued to sob into your chest. He knew that whatever he did, you weren't going to respond in any sort of way, so he refused to let go of your warm, enervated hand with his cold, shaky ones.

He didn't want to forget the touch of your fingers running through his hair when you were alone together. He could recall your sweet smile and laugh when he blushed everytime you did so. He just wanted to clasp them between his and hold it tightly, never letting go.

Riddle promised himself... he didn't want to be the same anymore. He would rather become numb than to be tempted by rage ever again. One more event added to his trauma, and this entire situation was all his fault because he couldn't control his emotions.

To become a housewarden, to become a leader, to guide a country—it meant to carry the burden of tragedy and failure—but Riddle wondered outloud, "W-when will... all this... s-suffering end?" Riddle greived as his words strangled his throat like a tight rope.

■

{ * L E O N A * }

All communications were lost as soon as Leona created the dust storm. You became seperated from the rest of the group, having been forced to run into a different direction because of flying objects being tossed in the storm as he aimed at you.

Leona stalked you while you ran. The sedated darts were futile when you used it against him and it only seemed to piss him off. Leona's movements were swift but he couldn't dodge your attacks. You tried to disarm him by shooting numbifying potions into his limbs. With every four steps he made, you took one back. The bag of liquids you carried was too heavy for you, even if it was being slowly used up. You needed to get him down somehow, without causing serious bodily harm.

But... you were getting physically exhausted. The dry dirt pulled your body down, the hot heat scorched against your skin, and the dusty sand was getting into your eyes.

You started to wonder if it would be a good idea to circle back and find the rest of the students. How long would it take? It felt like Leona was everywhere whenever you turned and zigzagged through the area. You shut your eyes. Your last resort was probably not the best solution, but one nonetheless, was to just start calling out for your friends.

"Ace! Deuce! Grim!" You started to panic when Leona's eyes narrowed at you. Your grip on the potion tightened and you slowed down. "Jack! Ruggie! Somebody!"

CRACK

You looked down. Blood covered your hands. Glass fell to the floor as you dropped the rest of the bottle. It shattered, and shards scattered across like stars swimming. You felt zero pain. The numbifying potion had instantly taken effect. To think that this would turn against you...

Leona prowled closer and locked eyes with you. He taunted you: shined his claws and bared his sharp fangs. He immediately pinned you on the floor and roughly pressed his forehead against yours. His green orbs were full of madness... distraught... and agony.

At first, you couldn't feel it.

There was no pain.

It only occured to you now that the potion was meant for you—...not Leona. It felt like had become the fragile, glass bottle. You couldn't breath. The grasp on your throat had tightened. It was barely an audible whisper, but you mouthed the words: I love you, Leona.

■•■•■

Leona felt satisfied.

The strained clench of his fury was finally released upon something. He was grateful to have a giant stress ball beneath him. It was large—much bigger than the ones he was used to.

That is... Until he saw you underneath him. He looked around to see if anyone else was there to witness the crime. There was nobody. Leona felt absolutely pathetic—him, a giant, humanoid cat had given in to his animalistic instincts. And... on you.

"[ Name ]..." He muttered. His heart became heavy and felt disgusted with himself. "How could I have been so damn stupid...?"

He placed his face against the crook of your neck and shut his eyes. Leona breathed slowly, he tried to reduce his anger but it didn't really help. He wanted to set fire and hell upon the infertile soil because of his careless actions. He felt something boiling inside. He wanted to shred and destroy—cause havoc and chaos.

But the person he deeply cherished lying in front of him told him otherwise. Unspoken words were always said between the two, and Leona knew that they would say, "Sometimes, destroying things won't solve anything."

He gently caressed your cheek. He knew you couldn't feel it. Though, he hoped that in the afterlife (if there ever was one) that you could forgive him and feel his love once more.

This was the heavy price of magic—to overblot meant to lose your mind, also control of yourself—and Leona believed he had nothing to lose until now. You, the most special person to him, was gone. Lost.

He picked you up and carried you in his arms. He would stay in this grotesque form forever, hiding away from the rest of the students with his deceased lover. He didn't care if he never turned into his normal self, or if he even died from all the negative energy within. All he wanted was to be with you��for eternity.

If this was loss, then he too, would become one with it.

■

{ * J A M I L * }

You wondered... Would Jamil come save you, even in overblot form, if you came crashing down into the earth while you rode on the magic carpet? 

From down below, you saw students forming into groups to counterattack Jamil, some getting struck down by him, and others running away to receive medical aid. The sight wasn’t in the least pleasant. In fact, it would have been vomit-worthy if you weren’t so focused on not falling from such great heights. 

The dagger in your hand was starting to get sticky from your clammy hands. You didn’t want to do this... But what other options did you have? It wasn’t like you had magic abilities or an aim like Rook. To do this meant to have courage, and that is definitely what you believed you had. It was a constant lie you told yourself.

You tilted the carpet downwards as you watched Jamil stagger from one of the student's attacks. He seemed to be slightly confused. Who hit him? You see Grim in the distance, his flames darting across the sky. It was a distraction for you.

Your hand raised towards Jamil, the dagger aiming straight to his arm. You weren't going to kill him, you were simply trying to weaken him... But what if you missed? The closer you got to him, the more the guilt rose from the pits of your stomach.

It boiled and burned.

Wait.

No.

....No....

There was something impaled into your stomach. A blazing sensation coursed through your body and your once-shaky hands were gripping onto Jamil's shoulders. He stared into your eyes. He looked detatched. Almost remorseless.

You shut your eyes, released a heavy sigh, and rested your forehead against his. You could hear the gasps of the other students and shouting of unfathomable words.

You don't know how Jamil did it. How he seized your weapon and peirced it into you.

There was a sinister smile that you had never seen. He was another person. That twisted gaze held contempt and cruelty.

"Worthlessss," Jamil spat onto your face. "Just like Kalim."

"H-huh...?" you moved slowly and dug your nails into Jamil's skin as deep as you could. "W-we'll... see a-about that."

Something slammed hard onto Jamil's head, and your ears echoed to your own slow, rhythmic beating heart.

■●■●■

When Jamil woke up, his head was hammering from intense pain. He felt someone watching him, and as soon as he looked up, hundereds of eyes looked down at him. He heard Kalim's voice: "...Sorry about that, I didn't really have a choice."

Jamil turned to Kalim. He was squatting next to him with a handful of bandage wraps and an icepack. Jamil was trying to remember what led up to this event.. What did Kalim mean by "he didn't really have a choice"?

Jamil could barely muster a word. He felt exhausted from whatever he previously had done. "What... do you... mean?"

Kalim could only give him the biggest, forced smile. "Let's just get you to the infirmary first." Kalim pulled Jamil and wrapped his arm over his shoulder.

"I shall assist you," Jade said as he quickly grabbed ahold onto Jamil's other arm.

"Hmph," Azul was heard from behind. "Such benevolence must be repaid, no?"

"If it's money... you want..." Jamil huffed and winced, "...So be—..."

Kalim and Azul instantly made eye contact with each other. Jamil's weight became... lighter. He didn't need to say anything for anybody to realize what was wrong. He saw the limp body. The blood-soaked, magic carpet. The knife still intact in their stomach. For a while, Kalim didn't know what to say, until Azul spoke up.

"She... commited suicide," Azul hesitantly lied. He wasn't sure how long this fabrication would hold up. The rumors would start to spread eventually, but Jamil couldn't know the truth now. His memory loss of the event might prove to be a good thing but... was this benevolence? And the price... it would be paid when the truth was out. As for now, Jamil was at his most unstable point. Him knowing the truth would only detorate his mental health—kill him, even. His overblot state had already damaged him enough.

Jamil was wide-eyed at your lifeless form. There was no motion. Even Kalim's magic carpet beneath you hadn’t moved. It was like it was frozen, and so was the whole world. Time stopped and he could only hear the tremors of his own heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears. 

[subskz]

Who is the ship dynamic "nice boy x girl who pegs him" and why is it Chan? (And arguably Binnie and Fefe too)

Like, just thinking abt virgin/inexperienced Channie and his first time getting pegged. (Also thinking bout him with lingerie on... my mind isn't well rn 🫤)

Like,, can you imagine? How giggly he'd be once he got comfortable with it? BUT WHATEVER YOU DO, don't think abt how red his ears would get and how his shy babyboy-isms would increase tenfold.

Sigh... big sigh

~~~

Also, so unrelated; but I have partially pink hair rn (got it during Pisces season so my energy was just Pink on Pink Pisces truly)

Also also; are we talking about astrology?? Bc ya girl has yet to reveal her rising sign. So if you wanna place your bets on my rising, feel free lmao

please it’s so true…no one radiates that energy of sweet, boy-next-door who’s completely oblivious to how desirable he really is quite like chan

it’s not a pink original without the mention of lingerie! 😽 the thought of channie dressing up in it esp gets me so good bc you know he’d be embarrassed out of his mind, too flustered to even meet your gaze and reluctantly uncrossing his arms from over his chest when you tell him you wanna see how pretty he looks ㅠㅠ but at the same time he loves it, the excitement of trying smth new, how the lacy material makes him feel, and most of all he loves your attention…the way you admire him w that hungry look in your eyes makes heat pool in his stomach faster than anything else~

the babyboyisms 💔 he’d be so adorable squirming over every compliment you give him and denying them w a sweet lil whine…but the redder his ears flush, the harder he gets <3 so much of his behavior just screams wanting to be babied and doted on and cooed over, so once he feels safe enough to let go around you like that, he’d absolutely melt into the cutest, giddiest mess imaginable

pink hair!! and during pisces season too…no wonder ur power has been at an all time high lately hehe did you get it split dyed? and you know this blog is always one step away from becoming astrology focused lmaoo let’s see if my luck has run out 🫢 for ur rising sign…i’ll go w sagittarius! or maybe libra?

[thescarletfang]

Presence

Okay, who do I think I am starting a Cassian Andor series?!

Anyway, this is the first part. Stupidly nervous about this. Cassian is hard to write. Star Wars is hard for me to write. But I like challenging myself as a writer. 

This is “Presence” - part one.

Cassian Andor x RebelMedNurse

This can be read as a reader insert, but fair warning my reader inserts are much more OCs. Minor reader description. TBH I just love writing in 2nd POV, so I will be describing the “reader” a little here and there but overall, keeping it vague! 

Summary: You’re a med nurse on Yavin 4 and you’re terrified of Captain Cassian Andor. His reputation precedes him, obviously. But as you get to know the intimidating rebel leader, you’re surprised at what you find. 

Wordcount: 3.4k

Warnings: slight reader description, swearing, mentions of death, slow burn, angst. eventual smut? maybe? light smut eventually? idk rn. HAPPY ENDING BC LIFE IS HARD AND ROGUE ONE IS V SAD AND BEAUTIFUL BUT I NEED COMFORT RN. all my work is 18+, minors DNI

The first time Captain Cassian Andor comes to you in the medical center on Yavin 4, you’re so tired you can barely keep your eyes open.

It’s not your preferred way to meet the highly respected and incredibly intimidating rebel captain, but a crew got in late the night before from a mission that resulted in more broken bones and open wounds than you could count. You haven’t slept. You’ve been running from bed to bed, making sure the operatives are stable and healing. You’ve applied more bacta than you can remember in recent memory, and your medisensor is going to need a new power pack any second.

So you try not to be too hard on yourself when you’re told to treat Captain Andor for a deep cut across his chest, and you’re humiliated immediately at your state. He’s Cassian Andor, after all. Famous within the ranks of the Rebel Alliance, his reputation precedes him. You’ve heard through the few gossiping nurses in the messhall that he’s a deadly assassin and spy and his body count is unmatched. You remember feeling sick and pushing your caf away upon hearing that last part. 

You know everyone loves (or fears) Cassian Andor, but as you walk into the med room where he’s sitting on a cot waiting for you, you’re nervous. You’re a nurse in the Alliance, after all - your one job is to keep everyone alive. It seems to be in direct contradiction to everything Andor stands for: death for the cause is unavoidable. It is what it is, seems to be the way of men like Andor.

Which is fine. It should be fine, at least. You’re not a fool. You’re not so naive that you expect some storybook version of what is actually happening - you know death is inevitable, especially for the cause. You know that you are as replaceable as any meddroid - sure, organic medical personnel are fewer and farther between than meddroids in the Alliance, but you are not special. You are not worthy of life anymore than anyone else. You are a cog in the rebel machine. You know what you’ve signed up for.

This knowledge doesn’t make things in war easier to stomach, though. 

Since you are a living, breathing human med nurse, you are forced to go into battle. You are on rotation for missions, and you’ve seen the bloodshed and death close-up. You’ve stitched together dying men and women, dying Twi’leks and Rodians, and everything in between.

Loss is embedded in the vey fabric of your being.

It still hurts, though.

So when you look upon Cassian Andor, you are nervous. 

He, however, looks like he’s in a shit ton of pain. 

Andor hisses and cringes as he adjusts the grip he has on his uniform, clutching the front of it where red blossoms out. Along with his chest wound, he’s pretty banged up: there’s a layer of dirt and grime across the bridge of his slightly crooked nose, his hair is going every which way, he has a beard that looks like it needs trimming, and the beginnings of a bruise on his cheek.  You make a mental note to run a diagnostic on his entire person after you’ve tended to the cut that appears to continue bleeding.

“Captain Andor,” you say, grateful that your voice is steady. When his eyes flick up to you, you’re ashamed that your own immediately flick down to the datapad in your hand. You look over his chart. You hate that you’re nervous. “While on your mission you experienced a laceration across your chest? And you landed back on base at 0600?”

Andor grunts a noise of assent and you lift your eyes from the datapad. You’re startled to see he’s looking at you. His eyes are very dark. You have to physically refrain from gulping. 

“The medic in the field couldn’t assist with the wound?” Your question hangs for a moment. You see Andor’s jaw tense.

He does his best impression of a shrug - the most he can do in his current condition. 

“There was no time,” he says and you immediately notice the rasp to his voice. It’s a low voice, his accent lilting, and Maker this man is terrifying, honestly. You tell yourself to get it together. You tell yourself it’s because you’re so tired, it’s like you’re running on fumes. You tell yourself these things to keep from facing the truth: you’re afraid of Captain Cassian Andor.

You nod, setting down the datapad on the counter, and turn to put on your medical gloves. You take your sonic scalpel into your hand and face Andor again. He’s really doing his best to not show how much pain he’s in, and for a moment your intimidation of him is replaced by annoyance. 

Men, you think, internally scoffing. At the end of the day, they’re all the same. 

“I’ll need to sonic your uniform off to access the wound without further disturbing it,” you explain, pulling a stool over and sitting down, knee-to-knee with Andor. He nods. “Can you lie down for me?”

He does as he’s told and you’re grateful. You’re not sure what you expected - maybe him putting up a fight? Demoralizing you? Not letting you do your job? You think that’s not very fair of you, all these assumptions about this man. But - again - all you know is that he’s a ruthless killer and spy. These things make him a great rebel warrior. They do not necessarily mean they make him a great man.

When Andor is lying on his back, you begin to sonic open the front of his uniform. He hisses.

“Sorry,” you mutter, your nerves fleeing once you’re actually doing your job. It’s what makes you an exceptional nurse. You can laser-focus on a task, and everything else becomes background noise.

He clears his throat as you work through the front seam. 

“No need to apologize,” he says, his voice a bit strained. “You’re doing your job.” 

Your eyes flick to his face and you see his are closed, his jaw tense. Another moment and you’ve made it to his waist. You place your sonic scalpel on a tray on the counter. 

“I’m going to open your uniform now,” you say. In your experience, it’s always best to narrate everything you’re doing to a patient. “That way I can see how bad the damage is.”

He nods imperceptibly and your hands take the fabric gently, pushing it on either side of his torso as far as possible. Somewhere, in the very back of your mind, you register that Cassian Andor has a very nice chest. Then, you immediately reprimand that tiny whisper because it’s incredibly inappropriate. You feel ashamed you even thought of it.

The laceration itself is thankfully better than you anticipated. The meddroid who had handed you Andor’s chart - being a droid - had delivered in a monotone, so it sounded a lot worse than it actually was. While it is deeper than a graze, it is not going to leave Andor with any permanent damage.

You hold your hands above his chest and meet his eyes. “May I?” 

“You really think I’m going to say no?” Andor grits out and you can’t help yourself - you breathe out a laugh. You are shocked when you see the corner of Andor’s mouth twitch upwards. Is…Captain Andor making a joke?

You raise your eyebrows at the man. “I don’t know you, sir. Maybe you would’ve.” 

Now it’s Andor’s turn to bark out a laugh and it immediately turns into a groan of pain. You grimace. 

“Try not to…do anything,” you mutter as you brace your left hand on the side of his torso, using your right to reach over and grab the irrigation bulb. You point the nozzle of the bulb at the end of the laceration. 

“I’m going to cleanse the wound before stitching it together,” you continue to explain but you think Andor’s in so much pain that there’s no way he’s listening. “This is going to sting.”

Andor grits his teeth as you cleanse the wound and once you’re done, you notice his (very nice) chest is rising and falling rapidly - he’s short on breath from the pain. You scoot your stool closer to him - you’re in his space. 

“Hanging in there, Captain?” You ask it earnestly but he shoots you a raised eyebrow. 

You think he scoffs but that could also be his labored breathing. 

“I’ve had much worse,” he says and you look at him, in his big brown eyes and you think I bet you have, you scary son-of-a-bitch. 

You clear your throat. You continue your work. Your gloved hand presses down against Andor’s bruised torso and you see his skin jump beneath your touch. You work quickly, quietly, and focused. You know that Andor is a Very Important Person in the Alliance, so you do what you need to do, and quickly. 

You’re almost through stitching him when you say, “This looks worse than it is. You’re going to make a full recovery, Captain Andor.”

He grunts, hissing when you pull the last thread through his skin. You reach over to the scissors, cutting the thread off quickly. You bite your lip as you apply bacta spray to the wound, to seal in the sutures. When you flick your eyes back to Andor, you’re surprised he’s looking at you. 

You swallow. “Yes?”

He just keeps looking at you and it’s disarming. It’s like he’s studying you, like he can see into your brain and you are a little mortified. 

“Thank you for sewing me up,” he tells you and you cannot for the life of you tell if he’s teasing you or earnest. 

“It’s my job,” you point out and he nods and begins to sit up. You reach out to help him, your hands taking hold of his left bicep. You find yourself pushing away another incredibly inappropriate thought - that Captain Andor has a nice bicep. What is wrong with you? It’s so insanely unprofessional, you should be fired–

“I think I’m good,” Andor says and you look up at him and realize you’re still holding his arm and okay, now he is definitely teasing you because despite his bruised face you can see the mirth in his eyes. You let go of him as if he burned you with fire. 

“Of course,” you say, clearing your throat. You stand up quickly as Andor uselessly tries to cover himself with his torn uniform. You avoid looking at him as you grab the datapad. “You will be cleared for combat within 48 hours.” 

Andor grunts and you look over. He’s struggling to somehow cover himself with his tattered uniform. You take pity on the man, pulling a standard black tunic from a drawer. 

“I think that part of your uniform is a goner,” you say. He looks at you and you hold up the med-issued tunic reserved for patients. He takes it from your hands. He winces.

“I can help you,” you say. He looks like he’s about to refuse and you refrain from rolling your eyes. “Stand up, will you?”

He stands and you hesitate for just a moment before you remove your gloves. Tossing them on medical table, your bare hands take hold of the shoulders of his ruined uniform and you slide it off his back. You’re standing behind him and you realize you’re very close to him. When his uniform is off, you throw it onto the cot and Andor turns around to face you.

And now not only are you standing close to the man, but you’re facing him as well and he doesn’t have a shirt on. You curse the slight tremor in your hands. He’s just…he’s so much and there are all these stories about him and you try so hard to pretend he’s just another operative. 

He’s looking at you as he raises his arms and oh my god, are you fucking blushing? It feels like you are blushing. You avoid his gaze as you lift up on your toes to bring the black tunic over his arms. But he’s taller than you so you have to reach as for as you can to bring it over his head. When the collar of the shirt is brought down and his messy, bedhead hair is standing on end, you realize you’re standing even closer and your chests are nearly touching. 

“Careful now,” you say softly, helping his arms through each sleeve. He grunts, the sound either due to pain or annoyance at your instruction, but then the blessed shirt is on but he’s still looking at you, those dark eyes just boring into your own and you have to take a step back because you can feel his body heat radiating off of him and onto you.

Is the corner of his mouth lifting? Are you just imagining that? 

“Thank you…” he says, but trails off. He looks at you expectantly. 

You tell him your name. You don’t know why you tell him your name but it tumbles from your lips immediately. And yes, now he seems to definitely be smirking as he says it back to you. You think your name sounds really nice in Andor’s voice. 

And then he leaves, rapping his fist twice on the doorframe as he exits. He doesn’t look back.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding the second you’re alone in the room. You realize you didn’t do the full body scan like you had planned to. You look around for a moment, flustered. You put your hands on your hips.

You think the scariest part about Captain Cassian Andor is how he didn’t seem very scary at all. 

* * * 

A few days later you are in the messhall in the middle of the night because an operative died on your watch and this one hurt.

She was young. Younger than you by at least five years. She was tiny and small and looked more like a child than you’d ever seen on the field. She’d returned from a mission with a blaster shot through her abdomen. It wouldn’t stop bleeding. You held your hands to her wound as the meddroid buzzed around you, preparing for surgery and then a second later she’d taken her last breath. You swear the blood stains are still on your hands, though you’ve scrubbed them raw. 

You stare down into your long-cold caf and you cannot help it. You try so hard to keep the tears at bay but they will up in your eyes and spill down your cheeks without your permission. And since you’re already crying, you put your head into your hands and you just give into the feeling of utter loss. Your shoulders tremble and your nose is running and you let yourself cry, alone, in this empty messhall. 

You are tired. You are homesick. You are afraid.

And with the sound of a footstep, you realize you are not alone. 

You look up sharply and for a moment you can’t see anything because your tears have blurred your vision. You wipe your eyes and then you see Captain Andor standing in the doorway, his shoulders tense, his hands in his pockets, and he’s looking right at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t–I came for some caf, and you were here,” he explains. He sounds a little nervous but through the fog of your exhaustion and sadness, you don’t register his nerves as strange. You sniffle. You’re mortified. 

“I’ll go,” you mutter and you make a move to get up but Andor steps forward and you freeze.

“No, please, it’s fine.” 

You make eye contact with him and you see how tired he is. His eyes are bloodshot, he has a full beard, and his hair is going every which way. You nod and sit back down, taking a steadying breath. For a moment you think he’s going to leave and you have no opinion on the matter - honestly, all of this feels a little like a dream anyway. You’re not quite sure you aren’t sleeping.

But then Andor shuffles past you, toward the caf station, and you hear him go about making himself a cup. You take this time to gather yourself, and you’re thankful your shuddering breaths have stopped but you can’t control your eyes. They leak tears down your cheeks and you decide to just let them. It’s like your body is begging for release and you’re too tired to fight it.

Once again, you expect Captain Andor to leave but he surprises you. You hear the chair opposite you creak across the floor and when you look up, Andor is sitting across from you. He wipes a hand down his face and lets out a shuttering sigh and takes a sip of his caf. 

He catches you staring at him. You don’t drop your gaze. It’s in the middle of the night in the messhall when most of the base is their barracks - the rules feel different. 

Your voice is scratchy when you ask, “Trouble sleeping?” 

Andor’s fingers tap on his cup of caf. “Always.” 

You huff a humorless laugh. You see the corner of his mouth flick up. 

“You?” he asks. 

You nod. You think it’s the late hour and the lack of sleep and the weight of grief on your shoulders because you say, “Sometimes it just…feels like a lot.”

It’s a grossly inadequate statement and it can’t possibly capture everything that you feel but Andor doesn’t even blink. He’s looking at you and a shadow of understanding passes over his face.

“Yeah, it does,” he says. His voice is low and gravelly and it’s anchoring you, tethering you to this room. You can feel the floor beneath your boots. You can feel the stiff chair against your back. The coldness of the room caresses your wet cheeks. You’re still crying, the tears falling, but you feel calm. You feel present. 

A curl has come loose from your ponytail and you tuck it behind your ear. Andor’s eyes follow the movement. You give him the smallest of grins. Captain Cassian Andor gives a tiny one back.

You don’t say anything for the rest of the thirty minutes you sit together, finishing your cafs. When you’ve taken the last tepid sip, you stand up. Andor follows suit, and you both throw your cups away, making your way out of the messhall and into the moonlight.

“Do you need me to walk you to the barracks?” he asks and it’s such a bizarre question that you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. But he seems earnest, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“No,” you laugh, because you can’t help it. Why in the world would you need him to walk you back to your barracks? You think it’s a habit leftover from his life before - walking a crying woman back to her room. But that doesn’t matter here. Not on Yavin 4. Not in a war. 

He laughs back. If the moonlight was a little brighter, you’d see a blush graze his cheeks, but in the darkness you don’t notice. 

“Right,” he says. You stand there, opposite one another, outside of the messhall and it’s awkward for a moment. This is so insane, you keep thinking. You have never been alone with Andor before you sewed him up earlier in the week and now it’s happened twice.

“Okay, well. Goodnight, Captain Andor.”

“Cassian.”

You furrow your brow. “Huh?”

“Uh, just Cassian is fine,” he says, clearing his throat. “Captain Andor sounds like someone I don’t know.”

Your eyebrows raise at this little confession and you feel like you’re seeing this man a little clearer. Like the haze around him is lessening, and he’s a little bit more in sharper focus. 

“Cassian,” you repeat, and he’s looking at the ground with a little grin. He says your name back, still looking at the ground, and you’re taken aback by how charming you think that is.

His eyes flick to you once more before he nods, and heads off to his quarters. You watch him for a moment, the moonlight making his silhouette glow a little, and you realize that your tears have stopped.  

That night - for the first night in a very long time - you sleep soundly.

[themmeverse]

[redacted]

it's late for me rn so i am spitballing while high off incense and a tarot reading from a friend, but going through my followers list on here predictably imbued me with my trademark manic energy so fuck it.

i am in the middle of a big digital scrub / divest from social media hero's journey so idk if i really want to invest in tumblr to the point of it feeling like the digital journal/catchall it used to be for me back in the 2010s, but i also have this barely containable, compulsive urge to unload everything here that's happened since whatever year it was that i last posted.

for the sake of scratching the itch, and for the possibility of whomever theoretically still being invested: everything is very different and everything is also very the same. same job, but now i am a union rep & on a committee & also a program coordinator for a mentorship initiative we're starting this year for education support professionals. same gender, but now i am almost 4 (FOUR!!!) years on hrt. my libido is my ball and chain and every day i say yes dear and exact her desires upon my own flesh and blood in solitude because i am more or less disinterested in fucking around and finding out wrt relationships. i tried family therapy this year and it fucked sucked!! haha! upside is its strengthening effect on the insular family i've created for myself that contains me, my sister, and my BIL who are currently planning on building an ADU in the backyard of their cape cod home for me to live in. my best friend from high school wants me to move back north to become a drawing instructor for the elderly at the nonprofit she works for and i'm not not considering it. my 1 extant grandmother is dying from brain cancer that has branched into her CNS but i followed my gut and spent a week in MA visiting family so i could see her and timed it right before she starting refusing food and sleeping constantly while tethered to a morphine drip. my grandfather has dementia and thinks we still live in massachusetts and that my dad stops by his facility every day to say hello, and also that my father built the facility he currently resides in. this facility has a red cat named ginger whom i had the pleasure of meeting while i was up there, which was a great comfort after the fucking love of my life died (cat soulmate with whom i was very fortunate to spend 4 long, perfect years before he passed and gave me enough of an emotional impetus to experience full-body, inconsolable sobs for the first time in years; thanks testosterone).

i'm less than a hair's breadth away from deep-diving into a furry artist / trans/horror erotica author / DnD DM arc, meanwhile my aunt is telling me to write a collection of stories about my family after i spent 5 minutes revisiting an old memory of the Season of the Tarts, wherein my very autistic mother decided to enter the Pilsbury Bake-Off desserts contest and settled on tarts as her point of entry and every single week there was a tart with a unique but harmless amalgamation of flavors (strawberry chocolate chip) in the fridge for us to subsist off.

my car is cow-themed. i am still masking bc COVID never went away. celebrity worship is dead and every online personality is a disappointment i fear. the wheel turns and crushes new bodies underneath it every day. turns out mood stabilizers and a modest dose of antihistamines are right for me after all. i am sober and apparently also entirely allergic to the outside world according to my allergist (every type of grass in addition to birch and oak).

what's fucking new!!!

[ughgoaway]

Oh yeah for sure his neck/ clavicle area is one of his best features. When he screams into the mic and you can see the muscles🥵 And when he takes a drag of his cigarette or takes a deep breath in and the space between his collarbones dips in (I guess it’s called the Suprasternal notch lol thanks google) it literally makes me insane. This is oddly specific but I feel like you’d get it :’) oh and when he throws his head back and his adams apple shows more

He just makes me so ajskdhksbd I need him bad

I really need him to shave and buy more hair gel, something about the slicked back hair and slightly oversized suit is so sleazy and slutty but I LOVE IT

-🌻

when he's slightly sweaty and his collarbones and neck are just glowing... I need to lick him. I'm so sorry. shiny collarbone was inspired by him after coming off stage, actually.

OHMYGOD YES WHEN HE DOES THE EXTENDED "COOL" IN ROBBERS AND HIS VEINS COME OUT AHRHHRHSHWHW

omg, who knew that tumblr could be so educational??? I LOVE his suprasternal notch lmao, its something so small, but so good. god, I want to mark him up so badly.

NO, THE ODDLY SPECIFIC STUFF IS MY FAVVVVVV. I SO GET IT. i love it when he has a cig in his mouth and puffs the smoke out with it still between his lips, and I love it when he holds the cig between his teeth.

Adams apples remain incredibly hot to me omgggggg. LIKE WHEN HE THROWS HIS HEAD BACK AND BREATHES HEAVY, AND YOU CAN SEE IT??? KILL. ME. NOW.

imagining his adams apple bobbing as he gulps nervously if you're dominating him... the red flush creeping up his neck as you edge him again and again. it spreads to his chest and cheeks, a pink glow covering his whole body as you bring him to the brink over and over but you dont let him cum...

*gasp* not the shaving mention... I can feel @think0fmehigh dying rn at the suggestion. every time someone brings up matty shaving, she loses part of her soul

I personally LOVE the stache but I do go through phases of missing the clean shaven look. maybe it's my love for more effeminate men coming out lmao!! like I saw some roxy videos today and FUCK. he looked immaculate that night.

no bc the slicked back hair and the oversized suits is giving laid back son of a mobster who would kill for his gf or just kill in general... very wattpad fic of him, and I eat it up every time.

sleazy and sexy just IS matty healy. Those are the two most perfect words to describe him.

[togalnu]

Do you have any specific hcs for fem togainu or just fem nitrochi as a whole? I'd love to hear them! ^^

Oops I meant to answer this earlier. Anyways yes! I will be putting this under a read more because. Lol. Enjoy!

You wanna know a secret? Earlier this year I was researching parodies and the legalities of them because I had the grand idea to make a togainu remake but yuri and with some story changes. A whole ass visual novel. I was seriously planning on making it. Suffice to say I have put in some thought in turning these yaoi boys into yuri girls.

We will be here all day if I list every little thought and headcanon I have! I'll def make more posts about my visions in the future, but for right now I need to talk about Shiki. I NEED TO TALK ABOUT SHIKI.

First and foremost, my overall thoughts about Shiki: wasted potential. His route was a huge disappointment when I finally got to it. It was fumbled so fucking badly and it pains my soul because Shiki is hot and I love the concept of his character but.. man. What a let down. I ended up thinking about him a lot because of this. What I would do if I were in charge of writing his route, parts of his characterization that I'd rid of or ameliorate, and maybe even giving him some new quirks to not make him so one-dimensional-evil-villain type. And then along with this, I started thinking about what if he was a woman. because I am attractdd to women. Typical thought process.

First, his design. I am a sucker for black haired red eyes bitches. I love black and red. I'm dying my hair black and red at the end of the year. The majority of my wardrobe is black and red. I do not play around #EMO. I love the almost leather gothic look he has but unfortunately it is not enough for me. I felt that he needed more unnecessary accessories and belts and other clothing items, as any goth should have. I've had a few ideas in mind for Shiki girl outfit and they all lean into these more, like giving her extra bracelets, belts, necklaces, crosses, whatever. I want her DECKED OUT!!! But I also struggle coming up with outfits so I can't really decide what looks good LMAO

Things I love about Shiki's outfit:

- The gloves. UGHHH gloves are so fun. The longer the gloves are the better.

- His stupid coat

- The spikes and crosses. The silver adds a lot to his appearance

- Turtleneck<3

Things I don't like about Shiki's outfit:

- those stupid ass notches on his pants. I can't tell if he has insane thigh-high boots or strange pants, and neither can a lot of artists it seems like? Though it seems pants are the consensus. SAD!

- Turtleneck should have long sleeves

- Or his coat should have long sleeves. One of those two

- What the hell is going on with his belt. It'd look fine if it didn't have those strange hanging.. circle... things

NOW MY IDEAS

I like the idea of her having a corset and fishnets, so I've been including that in whatever iteration of her design I'm working on. I gotta keep the coat too as it's like, a Shiki classic. I've also been trying to decide how a skirt for her might look (I love the idea of it having a slit so you can see her fishnets and thigh high boots).

But I'm torn on including the turtleneck as much as I love it.... I feel like it kinda clashes. Idk maybe i should just move her skirt up so it's not hanging off her ass but also it's fun to draw it that way.

Although adding another belt with the skirt could work too, and have the fishnets peaking out from the skirt slit... not gonna draw that rn though im just brainstorming here

Like I said earlier I'd love to give her way more accessories than base Shiki has but I need to definitely play around with outfit ideas more bc I don't want her to look too cluttered either. Also sorry all the pics are torso only because for some reason I struggle HARD with drawing calves and feet

I don't have much to say for hair ideas.. I just like the idea of it flairing out + two long.. idk what to call them... strands of hair? Down her cheeks?? Okay well u see what I mean in the pic. Bangs pretty much stay the same

And ohhh my god I know togainu is set in the post-apocalyptic future, but considering it came out in 2005 I feel obligated to rework some of the designs to be a little more y2k.. Akira with low waisted flared jeans... making Shiki even more gothic... it's so fucking fun HOW CAN I NOT!!

Also the other day I saw this one corset that I LOVED and wanted to see if I can Shiki-fy it but hmm... idk... I definitely need to play around with the idea more but here's a quick sketch i did just for funsies so you get the idea

Okay moving on

Second, his characterization. I love the idea of what they were going for in terms of his relation to Nano. I wish so badly they had expanded on this past Shiki just hating line users and killing them because he's unable to kill Nano (although I do think this is a pretty good bit of characterization). I'm pretty sure the Chayamachi manga goes more into this but idc we are talking about the game so I'm gonna pretend it doesn't exist.

Shiki is smug and cocky. Incredibly so. But a big part of his character is how hateful he is, so much so that it's this hate that motivates everything he does.

I love it. I love his hatred. I wish the game went more into it sooo badly and like if he found out Akira had anti-line blood before the end of the game and there was time given to show his reaction? Would he hate Akira for it??? Would he feel any kind of resentment?? If I was Shiki I'd definitely feel complicated as fuck over it!!!

Anyways I'm still working out how fem Shiki could be improved upon in terms of this, and I LOVEEE LOVE LOVE LOVE writing personality and backstories and relationships with other characters and how they all interact with each other. I have very deep oc lore because of this but i will not get into my ocs rn because they have nothing to do with togainu.

This post is already long enough however and if I were to talk about all the ideas I had for Shiki characterization upgrade... well it'd take even longer. To say the least. One day I'll talk about it though! In a more comprehensive post including other characters and whatnot. It's something I definitely also need to work out in my head more tho

It's been a pretty fun project so far that I hope to do more with in the future. Side note that doesn't really matter but there's this song that I always imagine fem Shiki amvs too oops.. RIDE IT by LustSickPuppy... this part especially.......

(the part is around 1:17 if you don't feel like listening to the entire thing. But u should)

Urggghhhh I love lsp ugh ughhhhhfuhrhhcuuhfhuufghh sorry for posting lyrics and a spotify link. It will happen again

OKAY. AMYWAYS

I do not give a fuck if all of this seems too self indulgent. If anything it's supposed to be!!! It's a labor of love!!!

Thank u to anyone who read this far. I appateciate it